


your lips on mine (i feel good.)

by hyuckduck



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (but not really), Fluff and Angst, Gen, Love Confessions, M/M, also, and he's pretty af but that has nothing to do with the plot, and one kiss, i really love jihan on a side note, idk why, jisoo is sad because his parents disapprove of his relationship, mentions of internalized homophobia, mentions of parents who aren't good at parenting, soft jihan is the good shit this fandom deserves, subtle hand holding, they're both cute af idk why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 01:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12924756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyuckduck/pseuds/hyuckduck
Summary: (It’s just that, Jeonghan still remembers the day Jisoo had smiled and said, there are so many people in this world but I’d still choose you, to him. It was terrible because Jisoo still had an accent and his words were arranged all wrong and his pronunciation was off by a mile, but the sincerity that he said it with was still there. His reluctant, withdrawn smile. Jeonghan had felt that more than the words.I’d choose you too, he’d said, in English, and Jisoo’s smile was so blinding and disarming that Jeonghan didn’t stop thinking about it for weeks.)...title from - decalcomine by mamamoo





	your lips on mine (i feel good.)

Jeonghan is the first person to notice that Jisoo isn't being himself on the first few days after he gets back from the States. He doesn't bring it up, at least not when everyone else is there. He waits until Wonwoo and Mingyu get up to throw the trash (and make out behind the alley, risqué and bold despite the fact that both of them are stupid and young and could get caught easily if they weren’t careful enough) and everyone else disperses to do their own thing. Junhui and Minghao are still in the living room, playing video games, so Jeonghan pats Jisoo on the shoulder and asks, "Want to come outside with me for a bit? I need some fresh air."

And Jisoo shrugs, which is the strangest thing Jeonghan has ever seen him do. Jisoo never shrugs. He's never unsure or uncertain of what he wants to do. He looks tired, like something's been keeping him up at night and he can't shut his own goddamn brain long enough to focus on one thing at a time. Jeonghan wonders how many nights he stayed up staring into the beige ceiling of his childhood home in LA, ears keen to hear any and all noises so that he could reassure himself that he wasn’t alone. It's not a nice look on Jisoo. Jeonghan has always seen Jisoo as someone who's confident and certain with himself, and to see him dimmed and stifled the way he looks now is vaguely terrifying. He does, eventually get up and put his shoes on, but it looks like he’s leaving half of himself when he does.

It’s surprisingly cold when Jeonghan shuts the door behind them and catches up to Jisoo. It’s not raining yet, but it might. The sky is a splotchy midnight red mingled with shining silvers and the breeze is frigid. A half-moon smiles its lopsided, crooked smile through a cluster of buildings and the shadows dance for its lost songs. Bright lights from the street lamps catch on Jisoo’s face when he finally lowers the hood. (Lavender marks under his eyes, cheeks hollowed, eyes barely open, lips dry and skin cold. Like an exhausted angel painted by the moonlight and accented by the city’s neon signs.) Jeonghan catches himself before he raises a hand to touch the boy and instead chooses to just watch. It makes him feel like he’s back to only looking at Jisoo like this when he’s not looking.

Jisoo kicks a pebble out of the way when he’s walking. “Han,” he says, and Jeonghan is captivated by the way his lips curl around the name, how he doesn’t smile but his eyes are warm with affection, “I wish I was better with words.”

“You’re great with words,” Jeonghan assures, even though Jisoo really isn’t. He has trouble expressing simple things in Korean, struggles with things like consonants and pronunciation more often than anyone else did. When he tried to write, it all came out jumbled and awkward and the words never seemed right. He’s just bad at it by nature.

(It’s just that, Jeonghan still remembers the day Jisoo had smiled and said, _there are so many people in this world but I’d still choose you,_ to him. It was terrible because Jisoo still had an accent and his words were arranged all wrong and his pronunciation was off by a mile, but the sincerity that he said it with was still there. His reluctant, withdrawn smile. Jeonghan had felt that more than the words.

 _I’d choose you too,_ he’d said, in English, and Jisoo’s smile was so blinding and disarming that Jeonghan didn’t stop thinking about it for weeks.)

A car whizzes past the two of them. Jisoo subtly hooks his pinkie with Jeonghan’s even though they’re technically in public and pulls him closer. They walk again, shoulders brushing and hands linked, and it’s dead quiet and hopelessly loud at the same time. It disorients him. Jisoo breathes shallowly and the wind ruffles his hair, and Jeonghan hears all this with surprising quality. Another car goes past. Its cogs and wheels make Jeonghan’s head spin and his eyes hurt. The wind whistles. Jeonghan hates it. Jisoo’s pinkie curls around his tighter.

“I told my mom about you,” Jisoo finally says, and Jeonghan can’t help the way he completely stops dead in his tracks. The city seems to freeze around him, the wind stilling and the sky slowing its rotation. Jeonghan swears that some of the stars stop to stare at the two of them, two mere particles in fate’s generous plans, and his heart stops for a split second,

“Did she say anything to you?”

“No,” Jisoo admits, “and maybe that stung the most. I’d rather have her slap me across the face and scream at me than to have her look at me like I disappointed her.”

Jeonghan knows how that feels. He’d honestly never told his parents that he liked guys until he’d met Jisoo, and even then he said _I like Jisoo_ instead of _I like guys_ whenever his parents asked about it. It’s not that they hated him, because they didn’t. They just expected him to be just like them. Married one day, have kids of his own. They’re mostly okay with it now, but he’s careful not to push it too much. At first, they’d looked at Jeonghan strangely, like he was completely out of their depth, stared at him when he wasn’t looking like they expected him to breathe fire. And they were disappointed in him. He knows that.

“She’ll probably tell dad,” Jisoo still won’t let go of his hand, “and he won’t be too happy either. So I just – I’m sad, I guess?”

“It’s completely okay to be,” Jeonghan says.

“They can’t make me break up with you anyway,” Jisoo’s greatest curse is that he’s pretty even when he’s sad. (A piece of the sky painted with the city’s neon lights and the stars in the sky.) “But I think it would have been nice, for them to approve.”

“You know,” Jeonghan dares to reach over and brush the bangs off Jisoo’s forehead, “if your parents really love you, which I know they do, they’ll come around. They won’t judge you just because you like boys. Parents always see the best in their kids. Just give them a bit of time, okay? It will be fine in no time.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then do what makes you happy.” Jeonghan shrugs. “Break up with me, or tell your parents that you’re going to be with me whether they like it or not.”

Jisoo blinks. “You make that sound very simple, Han.”

“I guess I do,” Jeonghan grins, “What did you tell your mother about me, Jisoo?”

“That you were nice,” Jisoo still hasn’t let go of his hand, “that you were pretty and had long hair and nice eyes. That you laughed a lot. That you were my best friend. That I’ve known you for a long time. That you like sleeping and going to the city. That you’re the first boy I ever fell in love with. That you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.” He curls his pinkie tighter. “Why?”

“ _Oh,_ ” Jeonghan latches onto the wrong part of the sentence, “you – you’re in love with me?”

Jisoo doesn’t even blink. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan repeats. And then it really settles. He feels like someone’s punched him across the face but with daisies, and suddenly he’s grinning so damn wide that his cheeks hurt and his heart feels like it’s about to jump its way out of his chest. Jisoo watches him and grins fondly. He has a specific, only-for-Han smile that he smiles sometimes. It makes his eye shine and his mouth look more kissable.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jisoo reminds him, “take your time, or whatever. I probably shouldn’t have sprung that out on you without a warning anyway. I’m just - ”

“I don’t deserve you,” it takes Jeonghan an embarrassingly long time to realize that he’s said that out loud instead of thinking it, but he doesn’t even smile when Jisoo goes red and immediately averts his eyes. “Seriously. You’re too good to me, Jisoo.”

“Han, cut it out –”

“You’re seriously so goddamn perfect,” Jeonghan can’t seem to shut the fuck up, and maybe that’s not a bad thing because Jisoo blushes all the way to his collarbones and his eyes warm up even more, “I don’t – I’m pretty sure I could look all around Korea and still not fall in love with someone as perfect as you.” They’re still standing a foot apart. Their pinkies keep them locked together in one spot. Jeonghan watches Jisoo smile, his cat-like eyes and his pretty lips. “I don’t ever want to _not_ love you, Hong Jisoo.”

“A simple _I love you too_ would have done,” Jisoo teases, and laughs when Jeonghan rolls his eyes. He still looks exhausted, eyes tired and shoulders slumped, so Jeonghan tugs him towards the road.

Somewhere along the way back home, Jeonghan slips his hand completely into Jisoo’s, and their palms are pressed together and their fingers are locked. It’s not the same as being subtle in public and makes Jeonghan smile when Jisoo doesn’t pull away. They walk back, shoulders touching and smiles bright.

“Han,” Jisoo says, when they’re in front of the house, “hey, I had to tell you something else.”

“What?” Jeonghan grins, a little stupidly.

“There are so many people in this world,” he says, like he’s reciting something from his memory, but his words are perfect and his smile is the prettiest, “but I’d still choose you.”

“I’d choose you too,” Jeonghan says, and the half-moon shrouding the buildings and shadows smiles at them when he lets Jisoo stand on his toes and kiss him gently.

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't slip into the diamond life i fell head first and cried the whole way down


End file.
